


Just Smile Again

by riots



Category: GOT7
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 04:11:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2454284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riots/pseuds/riots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson's been lowkey nursing this crush for years, but he never meant for Jaebum to ever find out. Mark and Jinyoung have other ideas. Also, they're terrible friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Smile Again

The stylist pulls at Jackson’s hair one last time and then taps him on the shoulder, shooing him away so that Youngjae can take the chair. Their comeback has been going well, but Jackson still hasn’t quite adjusted to the stage outfits. Suits are nice or whatever, but they’re just so...tight. He pats Youngjae’s shoulder as the stylist starts slathering him in bb cream, sliding past him to where Jinyoung and Mark are camped out on the couch. He grimaces and pulls at his collar. “How long until we film?” he asks.

“Twenty-five minutes,” Jaebum says, stepping up next to him, fiddling with his cuffs. His face is bare, no make-up yet - he always likes to make sure everyone else has had their turn first. He’s finally got a cut that suits him again, softens the lines of his face, and Jackson thinks he looks horribly attractive. Not that’s anything new, really, Jackson’s kinda been nursing this raging crush on him since before debut, and it’s only gotten worse. Of course. And he’s not really as subtle as he’d like. When he scratches at an imaginary itch, trying to cover the traitorous way his mouth twists, Mark and Jinyoung glance at each other, sharing a grin.

“Wow, look at you.” This isn’t the first time that Jaebum has seen him in a suit, but the way he’s raising his eyebrows speculatively is definitely new. It makes Jackson clear his throat and look away. “Funny, you look pretty handsome when you wear some clothes that fit.”

“I look handsome always,” Jackson tells him, and the compliment was casual but his cheeks still feel kind of hot. “I just happen to look classy handsome now.” He still feels out of place in his suit, although he’s lucky enough to have gotten out of the matching tie. He looks down at Jinyoung, who’s managed to knock his bowtie loose and now he’s fumbling with the ends, frowning as he tries to retie it. “I’m glad that you recognize it, though.”

He’s got to be imagining the way that Jaebum’s eyes catch on his shoulders and then slide down to his slacks, which cling more than Jackson is used to. There’s no way that could be real. “Congratulations on dressing like an adult,” Jaebum says, knocking his knuckles against Jackson’s arm. Jackson squawks in outrage. “You look, ah, you look really good.”

“Maybe this way he’ll finally catch that certain someone’s eye,” Jinyoung says. When Jackson rounds on him, glaring and hefting a fist at him, Jinyoung just winks at him broadly. Mark is just giggling next to him. Subtle. Jackson is surrounded by assholes. He comforts himself with focusing on the weird bleach job Mark has had to deal with this comeback. Their bad hair is karma for being rude.

“‘Certain someone’?” Jaebum asks and he turns to him, intrigued. “You like a girl, Jackson-ah?” Jinyoung’s grin just gets broader.

Of _course_ leader is interested. Dating means scandals, and Jackson’s never really been any good with secrets. “I never said that,” Jackson protests, because it’s not a no, and he’s so shitty at lying. “And also can I just say that I totally resent that? I don’t need some stuffy suit to catch anyone’s eye. I’m -”

“You know you don’t have to feed us that ‘wild and sexy’ line,” Mark says seriously, knocking one pristine hightop against Jackson’s knee. “We already know that’s not even close to true.”

“Maybe wild as in uncivilized,” Jaebum suggests, and he nudges Jackson with his shoulder, the quirk of his lips playful. It makes Jackson feel stupid warm, and a little bit like pushing at Jaebum again, just so he’ll smile at him some more.

“That should’ve been your concept,” Jinyoung says. “Not the whole fencing deal. Jackson the wolf boy. Found him in the wilds of Hong Kong and JYP raised him to do backflips onstage.” Jaebum finally takes pity on him, tying his bowtie for him. Jinyoung grins at Jackson over Jaebum’s shoulder. “Tamed by our courageous Im Leader to become a pretty okay rapper.”

Jackson lays a hand over his heart. “Pretty okay?” he says, and okay, maybe he’s getting a little shrill. “Pretty _okay_?” He takes a step towards Jinyoung, ignoring the way that Jaebum insinuates his shoulder between the two of them, watching them with an amused little smile. “Big talk coming from Mr -” He raises his hands and twists to do the booty shake move from the chorus of Bounce. “Good thing they moved you to vocals.”

Mark lets out a little ‘oooooh’ under his breath, wiggling his eyebrows. Jackson doesn’t miss the way that he hooks his arm around Jinyoung’s shoulders in solidarity. Some best friend he is. Jackson makes a mental note to fart on his pillow while he’s in the shower tonight. “It’s alright, Jackson,” Jinyoung says, reaching out to squeeze Jackson’s wrist in the most condescending way possible. “You just keep doing your little backflips. I’m sure you’re useful.”

He wasn’t even really going to lunge at Jinyoung, they’re just riling each other up, but Jaebum still catches Jackson around the middle, steering him back. “Alright, alright,” he says. “Easy. No fistfights, we’ve all still got to look pretty onstage in twenty.” From his perch in the stylist’s chair, Bambam whines in disappointment.

Jackson’s gotta admit, it’s pretty nice being pressed up this close to Jaebum. “Hold me back,” he says in English, deliberately punching his fists just shy of Jinyoung’s nose. “Hold me back.” Jinyoung swats at his hands and throws back his head and laughs.

Jackson keeps swinging until Jaebum tugs him away. “Easy, tiger,” Jaebum says. “Why don’t we come over here and you can tell me all about this girl you’re interested in.”

“Oh, no,” Jackson says, immediately sliding out from Jaebum’s grip. “No girl.” He waves his hands placatingly but Jaebum isn’t buying it. “I am one hundred and ten percent not interested in a girl. I promise.” He holds up one hand and puts on his best innocent, wide-eyed puppydog face.

Jaebum isn’t buying it. “Is she an idol?” he asks. “Do I know her?” He makes a quick sidestep before Jackson even has the chance to slink away, which is unfair, seriously. Freaky leader telepathy. “How did I not know about this?”

The little crease of concern between Jaebum’s brows is pretty much destroying Jackson. “It’s not a thing,” he says, flapping a hand guiltily. “Seriously!” He pauses. “And if there _were_ a girl, I’d only need my own natural charm to pick her up.”

Jaebum’s eyes narrow and Jackson can’t decide whether to be offended that Jaebum’s doubting his game or nervous because he still doesn’t believe him. Luckily, he’s rescued by Jaebum being summoned to take his turn in the chair. “How do you manage this?” one of their stylists chides Jackson, tugging straight the lapels of his jacket and fixing his hair. They must have gotten mussed when Jaebum pulled him away. “It’s only been five minutes.”

“I have a gift?” Jackson suggests, and their stylist rolls his eyes. Jackson chooses to believe that it’s fond. “It’s a pretty specialized skill I’ve developed over the years. More of a superpower, you know?”

“Try not to use it again before you go onstage,” the stylist answers, and Jackson pouts at his lack of faith.

He pulls his cuffs straight as their stylist moves on to fuss over Jinyoung’s now-crooked tie, and when he glances up, he meets Jaebum’s gaze in the mirror. Jaebum points a finger at Jackson’s reflection. “This isn’t over,” Jaebum says.

Jackson beams at him broadly, falsely, and shrugs. Maybe if he pretends hard enough that he has nothing to hide, it’ll somehow come true.

Jaebum narrows his eyes and Jackson’s heart sinks. He’s a little bit screwed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jackson’s not safe, even on the way home. He’s nodding off on Mark’s shoulder when Jaebum speaks. “Is she with our company?” he asks, turning around in his seat to peer at Jackson. “Older, or younger?”

Jackson squeezes his eyes shut, snoring exaggeratedly, and buries his face in Mark’s sweater. He is not having this conversation and he’s _super_ not having it in front of his entire group. He can hear Yugyeom giggling already.

“Jackson,” Jaebum says.

“I’m asleep,” Jackson insists and he can feel the way that Mark’s chest shakes with laughter.

“Same age,” Jinyoung says cheerfully. “Imagine that.” His voice is loud enough that he must have wedged his head over the middle row, just to be obnoxious. Jackson swings back wildly until his hand slaps back against Jinyoung’s face and he hears a satisfying yelp.

They pull up in front of their dorm and Mark wedges his hand against Jackson’s face, levering him off of him. “You’re going to have to talk about it some time,” Jaebum says.

“There’s nothing to talk about, though,” Jackson says. The only thing stopping him from escaping the van is Bambam and the slowly opening door. Jackson pushes at him until Bambam tumbles out, and then sprints after him. “Absolutely nothing. I’m an innocent baby angel.”

Behind him, Mark literally shouts with laughter. “You sure are,” Jaebum says dryly, holding out a hand to steady a sleepy Yugyeom as he climbs out of the van.

When they get to the elevator, Jaebum catches his arm, holding him back as the rest of the group heads up. “Seriously,” Jackson says, watching the elevator doors slide shut in front of him before he finally, finally turns to Jaebum. “Jinyoung’s the one who said it, not me. Why don’t you believe me?”

Jaebum hesitates. “You’ve got your guilty face on,” he says finally. “You’re hiding something from me.”

Jaebum’s voice is unsure enough that Jackson’s heart clenches a little. He’s always hated keeping secrets. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, and he grins, stabbing the up button enough times to summon a fleet of elevators. “I have no secrets, you know that.”

“Yeah, I do,” Jaebum says, and Jackson’s chest only gets tighter.

In the elevator on the way up, he keeps a careful distance, and pretends he doesn’t notice the way Jaebum watches him in the mirror.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jaebum eases off for a few days, and Jackson makes the mistake of thinking he’s safe.

He’s wrong.

They’ve got the morning free and Jackson uses it to sleep into a glorious mid-morning. He rolls out of bed dreaming of a real breakfast (he can cheat today, right? He’s been so good with his diet for comeback) but all his morning grogginess and relaxation pretty much vanishes when he wanders out of his room and Jaebum and Jinyoung both jerk straight, sheepishly staring at him. “Uh,” Jackson says. “Good morning?”

“They were talking about you,” Mark announces from the kitchen. “And the mystery girl.” He hesitates before closing the fridge and sighs, handing over the juice in his hand and reaching for another.

Mark is a good friend. He’s a great friend. Jackson cradles the cold drink to his chest and glares at Jinyoung. “There is no mystery girl,” he reminds them.

“If you won’t tell me, I have to ask someone else,” Jaebum says, smiling a little. Even after the morning off, Jackson can see the dark circles beneath his eyes. Leader’s always working just a little bit harder. “So I asked Jinyoung, since he seems to have all the answers.”

Jackson flops down next to them. “Great,” Jackson says. “Perfect.”

“I was telling him all about how your crush is taller than you are,” Jinyoung says, and Jackson’s eyes get wide. “How your crush seems cold and chic but is actually very warm.” Jackson’s cheeks heat up and he covers his face with his hands and slowly slides down the couch until his chin is pressed to his chest. Why doesn’t Jinyoung just go ahead and spill the beans? This is horrible and torturous, and Jinyoung knows it. He leans forward to drag Jackson into a hug, but Jackson’s pretty sure it’s just so he can’t escape. “Very passionate about dance, very responsible. _Very_ pretty.” Yugyeom peeks his head around the corner curiously, watching them.

“I hate you,” Jackson grumbles, and Jinyoung just pats his hand against Jackson’s belly, grinning. “Seriously. I’m so serious right now. We’re mortal enemies. I hope you’re happy.” Jinyoung rests his cheek on the top of Jackson’s head. Rude.

Jaebum isn’t watching them, though. He’s lost in thought, frowning down at his phone in his hands and - did he take notes? That’s so...Jackson stills abruptly, his stomach shifting uncertainly. He didn’t think it was that important. “This is tough,” Jaebum admits.

“He’s making it up,” Jackson says, and it doesn’t even sound believable to him. Jaebum raises his eyebrows. “He is. What girl is taller than I am? Come on.”

“Plenty of them,” Mark laughs. “You’re kind of a little troll dude.” Jackson cranes his head back to see Mark pulling a face and demonstrating Jackson’s size with his hands, held a half metre apart. Jackson takes back his nice thoughts. Every last one.

“Hey,” Yugyeom says. “That girl you were describing, she sounds a lot like -”

Mark claps a hand over Yugyeom’s mouth at the same time as both Jackson and Jinyoung erupt into noise, drowning him out. “Don’t take the fun out of it,” Jinyoung says. “He’s got to figure out out himself.”

Jaebum’s looking at all of them now, mouth fixed in a completely disbelieving line. “This is your idea of fun?” he sighs.

“No,” Jackson says immediately, and then Jinyoung pats his head and says “yep.”

“I’m going to figure this out,” Jaebum says, and this time he’s staring right at Jackson, searching, a little smile playing on his lips like he’s decided that Jackson is a puzzle he’s going to decipher. The focus makes Jackson feel both giddy and nervous. He squeezes his hands around his bottle of juice. “I am.”

“Oh, goody,” Jackson mutters, and Jinyoung pats the top of his head again. It’s not really all that soothing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jackson’s not particularly good at solving feelings, and he’s definitely not any good at being subtle, so the method he adopts for the next couple of weeks is extreme avoidance. Maybe if Jaebum never gets to sit down and talk with him, he’ll never try to worm it out of him again. Seems pretty solid to Jackson.

Plus, it just seems...easier. It’s getting harder now, to calm his heart when Jaebum’s hand settles on the small of his back, warm and steady. When they settle down in their room backstage, it’s just safer to make sure Youngjae is sandwiched between the two of them, because then Jackson isn’t tempted to lean in to Jaebum’s space. It seems like every time they’re close, Jackson just ends up sitting a little too close, and his hands get a little too friendly to be strictly friendly. There’s just something about Jaebum that makes him want too much.

In the van in the morning, when Jinyoung calls shotgun, Jaebum ends up in the middle row instead. Right next to Jackson’s usual seat. Great. Mark grins at him as he climbs into the back and digs an elbow into Jackson’s side, wiggling his eyebrows. “Yeah, thanks,” Jackson tells him.

He ends up maneuvering Youngjae in first, under pretense of being a good hyung, making sure everyone is in the van. It doesn’t go unnoticed, though. Youngjae frowns at him sleepily and once everyone’s buckled in, Jackson can see Jaebum lean over slowly and look at him, long and hard. It makes Jackson’s skin prickle, being the object of Jaebum’s scrutiny like that. It makes him want to lean in and hide away, all at once. That’s pretty terrifying, all things considered.

When he glances over, Jaebum tips his head, eyebrows furrowed in question, and Jackson turns away again immediately. His stomach flipflops uneasily and he props his chin up on one hand, staring out the window. Anything is easier than telling Jaebum the truth right now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jackson shouts, startled, when warm hands pull his headphones off over his head. “You’re quiet lately,” Jaebum says. He’s fresh out of the shower, wearing nothing but a towel, hair dripping down his neck, and Jackson wheezes, averting his eyes. It seems really impractical that Jaebum wouldn’t bother to put on some _clothes_ before he came to play concerned leader. “Something up?”

“Nothing at all,” Jackson says, definitely not looking at Jaebum’s bare chest or where his towel rests, low on his hips. “I’m being a good boy. I’m studying, see?” He points at the textbook in his lap like he hasn’t spent the past half hour playing games on his phone and exchanging insults over Line with Eric Nam.

“I’m sure,” Jaebum says, but he hands Jackson back his headphones. He’s standing way too close for someone who’s not wearing any clothes. It’s not even that warm in here but Jackson feels overheated.

“Well,” Jackson says, his eyes flicking up. “There is one thing.”

Jaebum looks far too interested when he leans in. “Yes?”

It’d be tempting, to just spill it all. They’re alone in the room, after all, and the rest of the group knows better than to disturb their leader when he’s having a heart to heart with someone. Even if he’s only wearing a towel. And Jackson has been carrying this around for _years_. He’s spent years pretending like Jaebum’s smile turned on him doesn’t make him wanna roll over and show his belly, like he’s not fighting off hordes of butterflies on a daily basis, every time Jaebum touches him. It’s stupid. Sometimes, he feels it all building up in his chest, too much to swallow down, and he wants to blurt it all out so he doesn’t explode.

But then he looks up at Jaebum, eyeing him curiously, and the fear sets in. And isn’t it kinda selfish? To drop a bombshell like that on Jaebum when he knows that he can’t return his feelings? He tamps it all down until all he’s got left is a nagging feeling of nausea and an incurable need to make Jaebum smile.

“Can you put those away?” Jackson gestures at Jaebum’s nipples. “It’s distracting.”

Jaebum turns pink, reaching instinctively to cover himself up, and his towel slides lower. “Shut up,” he says. “Why are you looking at my nipples?”

“Because they’re in my face,” Jackson says indignantly, although he’s actually a lot closer to the sharp line of Jaebum’s hips and the faint line of hair and oh wow Jackson needs to not be looking right now. “I didn’t sign up to be in a group with a nudist, you know.” He flaps a hand to hide the way his cheeks are heating up. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Yah,” Jaebum says, and Jackson knows the slap against his neck is supposed to be disciplinary, but he wants to lean into the touch anyway. He’s so fucked.

“So you _are_ trying to seduce me,” he says. “Im Jaebum. I’m appalled.”

Jaebum hikes up his towel and takes a step back. “You know,” he says, “if I was trying to seduce you, you’d know.” He throws Jackson a wink, paired with his best, most dazzling smile, and then slips out of the room.

Jackson is left a bit dazed, a bit dizzy, and his textbook slides off his lap and onto the bed. His phone chimes with another message from Eric, but all he can do is lean back and cover his face with his hands. This is way too much.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The timing of their joint MCing gig seems perfectly designed to make Jackson suffer. It’s the two of them on MCountdown, and they’ve never had a gig this big. That alone would be enough to make Jackson pretty nervous, but it’s kinda compounded when he’s stuck alone in a room with Jaebum, going over their lines.

Jackson’s trying to focus on his memorization but it’s hard, especially when they’ve got Jaebum in this cozy pastel sweater and Jackson mostly wants to curl up into his side and see just how soft it is for himself. Which is weird, and creepy, and it’s barely a handful of lines, Wang, _focus_.

He always thinks better when he’s doing something with himself. Jaebum takes a break to take a sip of water and Jackson climbs to his feet, pointedly ignoring the perfect slick pink of Jaebum’s smile in favour of pacing, his lines clutched in his hands. He is going to learn these so he doesn’t ruin this for the group and then he’s not going to think about Jaebum at all. It’s fine.

He’s worked his way through the first three cards (with appropriate breaks for his co-hosts), when he feels a hand on his _ass_. He lets out a definitely entirely manly squeak. “Hey, relax,” Jaebum says, and the hand shifts up to rest on the small of Jackson’s back. He can’t decide if he’s disappointed or relieved. “You’re stressing too much. Do you want to go over it together?”

There is no logical reason for Jackson to say no, or at least, none that he can think of right now. Awesome. “Sure, yeah,” he says. “Sounds great.”

And like, theoretically, it should help to have Jaebum go over their lines together. They can get the timing down and everything that way. In practice, though, it means that Jaebum sits too close and touches Jackson’s shoulder too much, turning that too-bright MC smile on him, and it’s all just...too much.

Jaebum pauses in the middle of his closing lines. “Hmm?” he says. “What’s too much?”

Jackson laughs, way too loudly. “Nothing,” he insists, but his voice is too high. He clears his throat and tries again. “Nothing.” Better. Sounds like a normal human being again. “It’s fine. Start again?”

“You’ve been really weird lately.” Jaebum frowns and leans close enough that all Jackson can think about is the soft smoky line on his eyes and how bad he wants to lick the gloss right off of his lips. “... _what_?”

Jackson can pretty much feel all the blood drain out of his face. He can’t believe he said that out loud. The horror sloshes uncomfortably in his gut. “Just kidding,” he practically shouts, skidding away from Jaebum. He pairs it with a laugh that’s shrill and borderline hysterical and not even close to as casual as he wanted it to be. “It’s a joke, alright? I’m just gonna -”

He lurches to his feet, and he doesn’t know where he’s even meaning to go, but Jaebum won’t let him escape anyway. He hooks a hand around Jackson’s elbow and pulls. “What is up with you lately?”

It’s just enough to throw off Jackson’s balance and topples backwards, landing hard on his ass. Jaebum blinks down at him, startled. “Great,” he says. “The coordi noonas are gonna be so mad at me, I’m getting my pants all wrinkly.”

Jaebum drops to a crouch next to him, and reaches out a hand. Jackson can’t help but flinch away. He doesn’t want any of Jaebum’s pity right now, he’s not sure he could handle it. “Alright,” Jaebum says. “Spill. What is wrong with you?”

“You.” The words bubble up out of Jackson, completely unbidden. It’s like he spent so long trying to tamp it all down that the pressure just built up and he’s cracking. “You! You and your stupid pastel sweater? Like, how do you manage to look so handsome in something that stupid. It’s probably illegal somewhere.” Jaebum’s staring at him, astonished. “I’ve been half in love with you for years and you only become more thoughtful and more good-looking, which should not even be possible. How do you do that? You’re driving me crazy.”

Silent, Jaebum just watches him, eyes wide, and the corners of his mouth start to turn up. This is funny to him? “You think I’m handsome?” he asks, like Jackson hasn’t said it a hundred times before, dropped it in interviews and pretended that he didn’t mean it as much as he did. “Even in this?” He plucks at the hem of the sweater.

“I should go study my lines,” Jackson says stubbornly, and he feels pretty sick right now. Jaebum’s smiling at him like it’s all some kind of joke and he still feels paralyzed, trapped on the floor with Jaebum leaning over him, way too close. “Memorize and stuff.”

He stares at his hands in his lap until he hears Jaebum exhale and his eyes flick up again. It takes him a minute to register the softness in Jaebum’s smile, the hesitance and then his heart lurches. Does he - ?

The door opens noisily and Jackson is only aware of how close Jaebum is when he jerks away, standing up in a rush. “You’re on in ten,” the PD announces, looking disapprovingly at Jackson, still on the floor. “Please get ready.”

Jackson climbs to his feet, brushing off his pants and patting his hands against his cheeks, trying to will away the flush that seems to have settled in permanently. Still, when he glances over at Jaebum, he’s astonished to see he’s just as red. “Later,” Jaebum mutters, collecting Jackson’s cue cards off the table and handing them over. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Do we have to?” Jackson asks. “‘Cause I’m pretty sure I’d rather pretend that never happened and was some waking nightmare we both had.” Jaebum throws him a look, pulling his sweater straight and fixing his collar.

The PD clears her throat and Jackson immediately folds into a quick bow and apologizes. He heads out the door after her with Jaebum’s fingers pressing light against his back. It feels even more electric than usual.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s a lot harder to dodge Jaebum when they’re on the way home. When it’s only the two of them, he can’t wedge a maknae in between them as a barrier. He’s gotta bear the weight of Jaebum’s stare and faking sleep isn’t cutting it. At least their manager provides some kind of shield for now. Jaebum isn’t gonna bring all that up in front of him. Jackson hopes. He sneaks a quick look at Jaebum, but that turns out to be an enormous mistake, because Jaebum is watching him. Jackson swallows hard. There’s hope pushing at his ribs for the first time, and he doesn’t know what to do with it.

When they get up to the dorm, Jaebum barely gives him enough time to kick off his shoes before he’s grabbing his arm and steering him towards his room. “How was filming?” Youngjae calls, but Jaebum waves him off and bodily shoves Jackson through the door. Jackson probably shouldn’t find that hot. Man, this is too weird.

Jaebum locks the door behind him, and Jackson groans when he hears thumps and whispering behind it not even a second later. It is so hard to have secrets in this place. “So,” Jaebum says.

“So,” Jackson echoes. “How ‘bout them Yankees?” He says it in English, more to stall for time than anything, but when Jaebum’s brows furrow in confusion, Jackson just flaps a hand at him. “Never mind.”

“You said you wanted to lick the gloss off my lips,” Jaebum points out.

There’s more shuffling at the door and then Jinyoung’s calling through the door: “Pretty sure he wants to lick you everywhere.”

“Yah!” Jackson shouts, mortified. “I don’t remember you being invited to the conversation.” He folds himself up on the floor, gathering Youngjae’s blankets around himself, and Jaebum rubs a hand against his forehead, looking exasperated.

“Like your dick,” Mark adds on in English, and it’s quickly echoed by Youngjae. Jackson isn’t even certain that Youngjae knows what he’s saying. Maybe they shouldn’t let Bambam supervise Youngjae’s English lessons anymore. He pulls the blanket up and over his head. He is never coming out ever again. His career in music is over. He’s going to become a hermit in a blanket fort.

“My dick?” Jaebum says quietly, this time in Korean. Jackson feels the blanket tugged out of his hands and then he sees Jaebum crouched down next to him, peering in. “Uh.”

“I never said that,” Jackson grumbles. “For the record, I kept everything above the waist. They’re the ones making the dirty implications.” Of course, he’s conveniently leaving out the part where he would definitely suck Jaebum’s dick, if the opportunity ever arose, but he’s pretty sure he doesn’t need to freak Jaebum out any more than he already has.

Jaebum hums. “Yeah,” he says. “You’re the one who said you’re half in love with me.”

“Only half,” Jackson says. “You can round that down if you want.”

“I don’t think I do,” Jaebum says, and he shuffles a little bit closer.

Even under the blankets, Jackson can hear the rest of their group shuffling around at the door (Yugyeom is whining because someone stepped on his toes), complaining about not being able to hear. “That’s because this is a _private conversation_ , you -”

Jaebum is a good kisser. When Jackson goes still with shock, Jaebum strokes his thumb across Jackson’s cheek and pulls away, laughing a little bit. “I was hoping for a bit more of a reaction than that,” Jaebum admits.

Jackson abandons the blanket to climb bodily into Jaebum’s lap, pushing him back and straddling his thighs, kissing him recklessly, carelessly, and with every ounce of enthusiasm he’s got. He never, _ever_ imagined he’d get this chance. This feels like a dream, but like, one of those super realistic ones that ends with him having to change his boxers when he wakes up.

“How’s that?” Jackson asks, and Jaebum snorts, rolling his eyes affectionately.

Jackson tips his head in for another kiss when there’s a knock at the door. “What?” he snaps.

“Did you kiss?” Jinyoung asks. “I have money riding on this.”

Jaebum’s hands are resting on Jackson’s waist, anchoring him and holding him right there, nice and close. “I’m moving out,” Jackson tells him. “This is worse than trying to find time to jerk off.”

“You aren’t going anywhere,” Jaebum says firmly. Jackson leans down to catch his mouth again.

“They’re totally kissing,” Mark says behind the door. “Pay up.”

“Damnit,” Jinyoung says.

Jackson can feel Jaebum grin against his mouth.


End file.
